I saw an opening, “Being at sea will be better than being in Tonga, they don’t celebrate Halloween there.”
“What? Dad, stop.”
So the first 24 hours, force four on the beam, passage heaven. The next day, we woke Eleanor with a couple gifts and I made a special birthday breakfast with eggs and the veggie sausage we were able to buy in American Samoa. Windy chopped up a fresh Papaya. Then things went downhill.
In the middle of making the lemon tart that Eleanor requested, we ran out of propane. I’d gambled that we’d have enough to get us to Tonga.
“It’s okay, your birthday’s over anyway.”
“We just crossed the International Date Line; it’s now the 30th.”
“Uh, yeah. Tomorrow’s Halloween.”
“Uhn…my birthday’s gone…and how are we going to trick-or-treat?”
“We have candy.” Windy said.
“But there are no other boats.”
“Just keep coming back to us,” I suggested, “‘Trick or treat! Trick or treat! Trick or treat!’”
“Oh my god—worst birthday ever, and worst Halloween.”
I’ve got to say that Eleanor’s a trooper, that most of her sentiment is tongue and cheek. In fact, I think she thinks it’s kind of cool that she got to celebrate her birthday under such exotic circumstances.
“Next year can we at least sail the other direction so I can have two birthdays—or two Halloweens?”
In our twenties, we traded our boat for a house and our freedom for careers. In our thirties, we lived the American dream. In our forties, we woke and traded our house for a boat and our careers for freedom. And here we are. Follow along with the Roberston's onboard Del Viento on their blog at www.logofdelviento.blogspot.com.